<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Good Advice, Bad Advice, Matchmaking, and Everything in Between by 8311</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29302470">Good Advice, Bad Advice, Matchmaking, and Everything in Between</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/8311/pseuds/8311'>8311</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Comedy, Eventual Smut, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Golden Deer Route, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Golden Deer Route Spoilers, Fluff, Golden Deer Sylvain Jose Gautier, Hijinks &amp; Shenanigans, Multi, Mutual Pining, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Romance, Romantic Comedy, Slow Burn, everyone is pining - mutually - of course, like a lot of mutual pining, no beta we die like Glenn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 07:34:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>16,789</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29302470</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/8311/pseuds/8311</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Hijinks ensue as Sylvain and Claude take over from the counselor once a week, roping Hilda into their shenanigans. Balthus receives a challenge to run naked through the monastery because he threatened to fight any guy who wanted to date Hilda. Hilda also gets into a fight with a guy at a bar. Sylvain poorly spars with Felix. Claude cannot wrap his head around the women's summer outfit. And more!<br/>  <i></i><br/>Claude had always done a fairly decent job ignoring his (massive) crush on Byleth (”No, I’m not in love with her, Sylvain…” he had said on more than one occasion, as if trying to convince himself). Sure, she was the only person he had actually opened up to at the academy, and sure, he fell into a deep depression when he thought she had died, and sure, when he slept with other women they always had light seafoam green hair and toned muscles, and sure, he cried for two hours when she met him in the cathedral that fateful day, and sure…</p><p>  <i>Goddess, he wasn’t sure of anything. He had leader things to do. Battle plans. Schemes. Gambits? (”I dunno, I just come up with shit to do.” He had told Yuri, once).</i></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Balthazar von Adalbrecht | Balthus von Albrecht/Hilda Valentine Goneril, Caspar von Bergliez/Linhardt von Hevring, Dorothea Arnault/Petra Macneary, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier, My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>74</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prologue - Wednesdays</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is just a prologue while I figure out what shenanigans to start with! Leave a comment if you have anything you want to see - I'm completely open to most ideas and would love to write what people want to see.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Sylvain.”</p><p>“Claude.”</p><p>Sylvain’s shook his head rapidly, his mess of copper curls bouncing as he reached a hand out to grasp Claude’s shoulder. </p><p>The other man responded in kind, his eyes glinting as a toothy smirk formed across his face. </p><p>The two men stood eye to eye, regarding each other conspiratorially from arms length.</p><p>“Did it work?” Claude cocked his head to the side.</p><p>“Oh, did it <i>work</i>.” Sylvain winked. “Boy, we’re in business!”</p><p>“Well. On Wednesdays.” Claude reminded him. </p><p>“A once-a-week business is still a business.” Sylvain shrugged. </p><p>“Let the shenanigans begin.”</p><p>- - -</p><p> The Professor was back after a 5 year nap (thank the Goddess), the Golden Deer were back, honoring their promise to meet again, and the Knights of Seiros were back, ready to help take down the Empire. </p><p>Aside from battle preparations, there wasn’t a ton to do on the off-days between battle. Claude relished the title of “Master Tactician”, but that also meant that no one really expected him to be doing much other than, well, scheming and planning at any given time. As much as he would have loved to spend his hours gazing after the Professor, he knew there were better things to be doing. </p><p>Sylvain was in the same boat. There were only so many hours a day he could train with Felix without completely ruining himself, and only so many men and women around town he could hit on. He could ride horses for hours, enjoying his time alone as the sun rose, but there was only so much his thighs could take.</p><p>One thing they had in common is that everyone always came to them for advice about their interpersonal relationships. In fact, the week before, they had successfully set up no less than 6 knights on successful dates. </p><p>So, they decided:</p><p>Once a week, every Wednesday, Sylvain and Claude would take over from the counselor. </p><p>- - -</p><p>
  <i>Claude and Sylvain - </i>
</p><p>
  <i>Good advice, bad advice, matchmaking, and everything in between.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Office Hours - Wednesdays, all day.</i>
</p><p>A messily scrawled sign was tacked on to a door near the cathedral. A dropbox was nailed to the wall outside the door, allowing for people to submit questions as-needed.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Welcome Aboard, Hilda</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Hilda comes to the lads for advice, and instead ropes herself into their schemes after reading one of the letters they received in their dropbox.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>10 points to anyone who can guess what support inspired this chapter!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <i>Dear Wednesday Counselors,</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Look. You can’t tell anyone I’m writing to you. I wasn’t going to sign my name to this letter, but do I even have a choice if I want a response back? Hell if I know. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>First things first, I was too nervous to ask the regular counselor this. What if he judged me? I'm not the smartest guy, but I’m fairly certain you guys already know I don’t really like to extend the ol’ noggin. So you <i>get</i> why this is bothering me. </i><i>
Anyway. A buddy of mine told me about a legend the other day - at midnight, right as the monastery clock tolls its first toll, if a completely naked guy (or gal! I’d love to see that!) runs an entire circle around the monastery grounds before the final toll, they will be granted either a wish, or 10,000 gold from the Goddess herself! Pretty amazing, right? </i>
</p><p>
  <i>Well, I was thinking that I’d do some training this week. Running and all. They don’t call me the Exalted King of Running for nothing, because they don't call me that. Nor do I even call myself the self-proclaimed Exalted King of Running, so I’ve gotta practice, ya get me? Anyway. I’m not super nervous about being able to do it. I’m pretty sure I can make it happen. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>The question I need your help with is this. My buddy said that you get either a wish or 10,000 gold. What if I wished for 20,000 gold? I just don’t get it, it makes no sense if there’s a loophole like that. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>Do you think my pal got the legend wrong? </i>
</p><p>
  <i>Thanks,</i>
</p><p>
  <i>The Legendary King of Grappling</i>
</p><p>
  <i>P.S. ithinkiminlovewithsomeoneishouldntbeandimnotsurewhattodo</i>
</p><p>
  <i></i>
</p><p>“Claude?”</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“Have you seen this letter from Bal- I mean, the <i>King of Grappling</i>? I just…” Sylvain shook his head and leaned his chin into his palm. “I’m not even sure where to start with this. Maybe we should start with the P.S.? Yeah, I think we’re more qualified to start with that.” </p><p>Claude looked over Sylvain’s arm to get a better view of the letter. “We can’t let the poor man run naked around the monastery for a legend that doesn’t even make sense, though. I mean-”</p><p>“Look. I get it. It’s easy to get desperate. I licked the pavement twice a day for a week once when I was 15 because Felix told me that older girls were into men who weren’t afraid to get their tongues dirty. It turns out I completely misunderstood what he meant, and - anyway, I don’t even know why I’m - ugh. Okay. So basically, Felix was trying to prank me. Because I beat him once, <i>once</i> when we were sparring. So then -”</p><p>“Hey there, boys!” Interruption came in the form of a cheerful Hilda bouncing into the room they had commandeered as their office, balancing a tray with three mugs of steaming tea on one arm. </p><p>“Oh, hey there Hilda.” Claude looked up from the scattering of papers on the desk he and Sylvain were sitting at, biting at the end of a quill absentmindedly while the redhead pored over the handful of notes they had received so far that day in their anonymous dropbox. </p><p>“Hellooooo there beautiful. You went out of your way? To bring us tea?” Sylvain lit up as he stood and took the tray from her, clearing off space at the table. </p><p>“Well. Marianne made the tea. I’m here because, well…” she puffed her cheeks out and pulled out the chair on the other side of the desk, facing them. “…you can’t tell anyone. I’m having…trouble. In my love life.”</p><p> “Hilda Valentine Goneril and <i>trouble with boys</i> in the same sentence?” Sylvain winked at her then quickly feigned a troubled expression. “If anything, you should be here with us, behind the desk.” He turned to the coffee haired man. “Claude, why <i>don’t</i> we have a lady on the team? How the hell are we supposed to solve problems from different perspectives?” The ends of Sylvain’s lips curled downwards. </p><p>“Ugh, I didn’t bring you tea to <i>snark</i> at me, Sylvain!” She pouted and swirled a strand of bubblegum hair around her finger. “Just because I don’t put in the effort to solve my own problems doesn’t mean I’m not <i>capable</i> of it. I just think that you two handsome boys can help me out a little more than I can help myself. For once in my life, I’m in over my head in matters of <i>love</i>” She fluttered her lashes as she enunciated the last word. </p><p>“For once in your life, huh?” Claude raised an eyebrow. </p><p>“Shut <i>up</i>!” Hilda sighed deeply. “Look. Not one guy has hit on me in the last two days. Not a single <i>one</i>. Is there…is there something wrong with me? Did I get ugly in the last two days? Is someone playing a prank on me?!” </p><p>She seemed simultaneously livid and completely dejected. </p><p>Claude brushed his hair back with his hands, only to let it fall back into his face “You’re as beautiful as ever, and I’m not even trying to flirt with you this time. I don’t think it’s anything you’ve done.” He shrugged his signature shrug and shook his head. </p><p>Sylvain interjected. “Are <i>you</i> still flirting with them like you always do?” He pitched his voice up in a poor imitation. “These books are <i>sooooo</i> heavy! Oh, hello there Sir Knight, would you <i>pleeease</i> help me carry these?” He pouted exaggeratedly.</p><p>Hilda furrowed her eyebrows. “Sylvain. You’re making fun of me, and I don’t appreciate that. But yes. I haven’t changed my behavior at all. I haven’t suddenly become less lazy or helpless in the last few days.”</p><p>Claude tapped the end of his quill against his cheek a few times, turning to Sylvain then back to Hilda. “If that’s the case, I think this is better work for a detective agency than for us.”</p><p>“You guys are absolutely useless.” Hilda sighed. “How are you going to help anyone else if you can’t even help me? My problems are such low-hanging fruit. I’d be better off running this service than you two are.”</p><p>“That’s what I told you when you walked in.” Sylvain insisted, knuckling a fist to his forehead. “Maybe we should have asked you for help in the first place. If you were a part of our team, then you wouldn’t have come through our door with your problem, and then we wouldn’t have to deal with it.”</p><p>“I’m not sure that’s…how it works?” Claude cocked his head slightly but let Sylvain’s logic slide. “But Sylvain has a point. You <i>get</i> people, Hilda. We’d have better luck not only solving your problem, but other people’s problems with you on our side.”</p><p>Hilda sighed again. “You <i>guys</i>. I came in here for you to solve my problem. Not to be one of the problem solvers.”</p><p>“Fine, fine.” Sylvain held up his hands in the air, Balthus’ letter still clutched in one of his fists, conceding. </p><p>“By the way, what’s that?” She peeked upwards curiously at the paper, distracted from the previous conversation. “People already flooding your dropbox, huh?”</p><p>Sylvain plopped the letter down in front of her. “It’s not…what we expected when we decided to do this, but it’s…entertaining?”</p><p>Her eyes skimmed down the page, her mouth twisting slightly to the side in a confused frown. Once she had reached the end, she pushed it back to Claude and Sylvain and placed her chin in the vee between both of her hands. “Oh, Baltie…” Her sigh was both affectionate and resigned. </p><p>“Yeah. So this is what we’re starting with today.” Claude twirled the quill between his fingers, leaning back in his chair. </p><p>“Fine. I’ll help you.” Hilda stood up suddenly and placed her hands on the table. </p><p>“But we didn’t even -” Sylvain protested.</p><p>She placed her index finger to her lips, indicating for the two men to shut up. “Shh. You did ask. You <i>just</i> asked! But I'll only help just this once.” She puffed her cheeks out and crossed her arms in frustration. “Baltie always says that Holst says I’m <i>his</i> responsibility, but what he doesn’t know is that he’s my responsibility too! I may be lazy, but I can’t just <i>leave</i> his problems in your hands without at least a <i>little</i> bit of my input.”</p><p>
Claude and Sylvain looked at each other, grinning, then back at Hilda. <i>That was easy.</i>
</p><p>
The leader of the Alliance extended a hand across the table, a winning smile on his face. “Well then. Welcome aboard, Hilda.”
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i guess you can find me @ preetsposting on tumblr :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. No Tricks</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The gang makes a plan to get to the root of the absolutely wacky "legend" Balthus brought to them.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Gonna be posting short-ish chapters for a while, since I haven't had as much time to write recently! The next chapter is longer i promise!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Balthus!”</p><p>Sylvain called out to the burly man crossing the courtyard, waving his arms excitedly  back and forth. He had just finished eating some lunch and was heading back over to his and Claude’s (and for now, Hilda’s) “office” (if you could even call it that) for some more “work” (if you could even call it that). </p><p>“Hey! Sylvain, pal!” Balthus sauntered over, his grace surprising considering his bulky, muscular, frame. A singular curl of his windswept raven hair fell over his forehead as he grinned heartily and slapped Sylvain’s back affectionately.</p><p>“I needed to talk to you. About…you know.” Sylvain indicated his head towards the monastery. “I’ve been looking for you. Have a minute?”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah, I got it. I’ll meet you there in 10. A King’s gotta eat, ya know?” He winked and waved as he left towards the door to the dining hall.</p><p>- - -</p><p>Almost exactly ten minutes later, a knock sounded on the door of the Wednesday Counselor room (”Look, the name is a work in progress!” Sylvain insisted at Hilda’s resigned sigh). </p><p>“Come in!” Claude and Sylvain hastily swung their feet off the desk and smoothed down their shirts in a facade of professionalism. Hilda left her feet up and popped a truffle into her mouth. </p><p>“It’s just me.” Balthus followed his gruff voice into the room, closing the door behind him. “I just wanted to-oh, hey Hillie!” His face lit up, breaking into a wide grin at Hilda’s presence. “Whatcha doin’ here, princess?”</p><p>“Well, <i>Baltie</i>, I came in here to talk to the boys and I read your letter! You <i>know</i> that I can’t just stand by if something bad happens to you!” She pouted. “Plus, you didn’t tell me that you had your eye on someone! You also know that I’m the queen of matchmaking-”</p><p>“Calm down there, girlie.” Balthus sat down at the desk in front of the three, reaching over to grab a truffle right out of her hands. “Sometimes you just gotta have some guy talk first, ya know? Nothing against you, of course. You know I love ya.” </p><p>“Hmph.” Hilda took another truffle, quickly moving her hand out of Balthus’ reach as he made motions to steal it from her again. </p><p>“So what’s this about a naked midnight monastery run?” Claude interjected, leaning forward. “You can’t be serious, Balthus. Who even told you about this? I did a cursory check in the library to make sure this wasn’t a legend I just…hadn’t heard about, but I couldn’t find a <i>trace</i> of it.”</p><p>“You sure it’s not a prank?” Sylvain cocked his head to the side. </p><p>“Dunno.” Balthus raised a fist to his forehead, his elbow on the table. “It was one of the regulars at the Abyss bar. One of the knights. I think his name was…well…I don’t think I’ve ever gotten it. I’ve always just called him Steely, because the first time I saw him down there he got super drunk and told us all about the kind of steel his sword was forged from.” The former noble shrugged his wide shoulders. “Never thought it was important. Not sure why he’d lie to me. But if you wanna talk to him, I usually see him on Wednesdays and Saturdays.”</p><p>In unison, Sylvain and Claude leaned back and looked at each other, arms behind their heads. </p><p>“Claude?” Sylvain made a mock curtsy-like gesture and wiggled his eyebrows. </p><p>“Yes, Sylvain?” Claude mirrored his facial expression, holding a smile back under his weakly serious mask. </p><p>“Wanna grab a drink tonight?” Sylvain fluttered his eyelashes with exaggerated flirtatiousness. </p><p>“Sure. 7? Abyss?” Claude put a hand to his mouth and forced a high pitch giggle. </p><p>“Sounds good to me.” Sylvain winked.</p><p>“<i>Hold on.</i>” Hilda got to her feet. “What about me? What about Baltie? It would be weird to try to talk to this guy if Baltie’s around, <i>especially</i> if you think it’s some sort of prank. First off, why would anyone admit to pranking a person who could be listening in? Secondly, I want a drink too!” </p><p>“You and Balthus can stay behind. Maybe he can help you figure out why guys aren’t hitting on you anymore, since you made it pretty clear you don’t think we’re going to be helpful on that one.” Claude let out a bark of laughter.. </p><p>“But I’m a pretty girl.” Hilda sounded almost petulant. “We’re way more likely to get info out of a drunk knight if he’s trying to impress a lady.” </p><p>“She has a point, Claude.” Sylvain considered Hilda’s words, nodding. “I don’t know that many guys who won’t bend over backwards for Hilda, especially after a couple drinks. Plus, if he doesn’t flirt back, we can try to get to the root of her problem too?” </p><p>“That’s valid. So you’re saying all three of us should head down?”</p><p>“Well, I was thinking that you and Hilda could do the honors. Balthus and I can stick around up here, grab some dinner, then have some…<i>guy talk</i> over a whiskey in my room.” Sylvain looked over at Balthus. “What do you think?”</p><p>Balthus shrugged again. “Fine by me, pal. I have no idea what’s going on, anyway. I just was hoping for some quick gold.”</p><p>Hilda rolled her eyes. “Is that <i>all</i> you think about, Baltie? You know, if this <i>legend</i>-” she made mock quotes with her fingers, “-is even real, you could wish for something way more than gold! Like, I dunno, the heart of the girl you love!”</p><p>A gentle flush rose to Balthus’ cheeks. “I wanna win her heart myself, Hillie. No tricks.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>You can find me on tumblr @ preetsposting :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Why was this so scary?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Claude and Hilda make their way down to the Abyss bar while Sylvain and Balthus have a spot of guy talk. Claude doesn't know how to knock on doors.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I don't know why but this has been so silly and fun to write!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sylvain uncorked a bottle of his favorite whiskey (expensive, mind you), and poured it generously into the two glasses he had set in front of him on the table in his room.</p><p>Balthus leaned back in his seat. “That’s some nice whiskey you’ve got there, pal. You know, I’m not ‘bout to complain, but you don’t gotta break it out for the King.” </p><p>Sylvain sat down at the table across from him and handed him a glass. “Nah. I’ve been wanting to open it up for a while. The ladies love a nice drink, but this whiskey? This whiskey is for my friends. The only person other than you who’s had some so far was the Professor, and if she hadn’t fallen asleep on my table at around 11pm, she might have finished the whole thing.” The redhead chuckled. </p><p>“That woman can hold her drink, but she sure as hell can’t hold her…awake.” Balthus grinned. “Or something.”</p><p>“Cheers, man.” Sylvain tipped his glass slightly towards the other man before taking a sip. “Aah. That’s the good stuff.”</p><p>“You’ve got that right.” Balthus set his glass down on the table. “So. Guy talk, huh?”</p><p>Sylvain jumped right into it. “You’re not fooling anyone, B."</p><p>"Oh yeah?"</p><p>"I know why you won’t talk about your lady love around Hilda.”</p><p>Balthus paled slightly. “You do?” He furrowed his brow. “I thought I was doing a pretty good job of-”</p><p> “Nah. I didn’t actually know." Sylvain winked, his voice smug. "But you just confirmed my suspicions.”  </p><p>“You ever been in love with a childhood friend, bud?” Balthus stared into his whiskey pensively. “Lots of <i>you’re the best, Baltie</i>-s, all cute-like. It’s hard. I gotta protect her. Watch her heart get stomped on by guys who pretend to like her so they can get closer to Holst, or who think she’s easy. She’s not. She’s a smart girl, Hillie.” Balthus sighed, ocean-deep.</p><p>Sylvain sat silently for a moment, before reaching over the table and clinking his glass to the raven-haired man’s. “Same boat, guy.”</p><p>“Yeah?” Balthus looked up, surprised. “Who’s the lucky gal?”</p><p>“Well…” Sylvain buried his face into his hands. “Can we finish talking about you, first? I need more alcohol in my system.”</p><p>Balthus let out a snort. “I feel that, pal.” He reached for the bottle and poured a little more whiskey into both of their glasses. </p><p>“You ever gonna tell her?” </p><p>“Dunno. I really care about her. I wouldn’t want to make her upset, or anything. I wanna make sure I’m always in her life, I gotta make sure she doesn’t get hurt, ya know?” Balthus placed a fist into his other palm, cracking his knuckles. “Sure, she can protect herself. Holst and I taught her how to do that. But I’m just a little more at ease when I can keep an eye on her. Get me?” </p><p>“Yeah.” Sylvain let out a resigned sigh. “Not much I can do in the way of protecting the same way you do, though. But I like when I can keep an eye on him.”</p><p>Balthus eyed Sylvain knowingly. “It’s Felix, yeah?”</p><p>“Am I that obvious?”</p><p>“You get all sad-like whenever he asks me to spar instead of you. It’s pretty cute, bud.” Balthus laughed. “I may be stupid, but I can tell when my friends are sad.” </p><p>A knowing look dawned on Sylvain’s face. “Man. Is that why you don’t show up to the training grounds before ten anymore?”</p><p>“You caught me.” Balthus winked. “Plus, sword-boy definitely puts his back into it more when it’s you. He got all grumpy one time, when I mentioned your form to him. <i>Criticizing Sylvain is my job.</i>” </p><p>Sylvain’s face found it’s way back into his hands. “Goddess. I can’t do this. I should have broken out the cheap stuff, B. I need to be drinking more.”</p><p>- - -</p><p>Claude and Hilda strode into the Abyss bar, trying to survey the room as non-chalantly as possible. The alliance leader was no stranger to the venue - a man who deals in information has gotta have sources. </p><p>Hilda, on the other hand, was wide-eyed as they walked to the bar counter. She was more interested in the nicer bars and taverns out in the town - dancing, fancy cocktails, and cute knights galore to flirt with. However, she <i>hated</i> being excluded - and when Sylvain and Claude made plans to come down here, she couldn’t help but <i>become</i> interested. She had expected something more, well, seedy, but this was pretty cozy (albiet still with the layer of secrecy and murmurs that came with anything down in Abyss). </p><p>Claude grabbed her hand as he raised his other in a cheerful greeting to the bartender. “Hey! Kurt! Two of the usual please, one for me, and one for the lady.” He indicated over to an unoccupied table in the corner with a thumb. </p><p>“Good to see ya, Claude! And nice to meetcha, gal.” Kurt the bartender grinned from ear to ear, slinging drinks into glasses, second nature. “Be over in two, yeah?”</p><p>The two Golden Deer settled down in their chairs, surveying the room with interest. </p><p>“You come down here a lot, right Claude?”</p><p>“On occasion, yeah. Enough that it’s not weird for me to bring someone new here.” Claude ran his hand through his hair as he leaned back. </p><p>The bartender swung around, placing two drinks on the table with a smile, a fluid motion as he moved past to the next one. </p><p>“So, do you know the guy Baltie was talking about?” Hilda leaned forward and slid one of the drinks towards herself, sipping slowly. “Also, what is this, Claude?! This is <i>so</i> good.”</p><p>“Oh, just my usual.” He winked and waved the question away. “Anyway. I think I have an idea who the guy is, but I don’t know for sure. I forgot to ask Balthus for more specific information, but while walking down here I figured we’re smart enough to figure it out.” He shrugged. “I haven’t seen him yet, though, I wonder if-” </p><p>“Oh!” Hilda perked up as someone walked into the room. “Is it that guy?”</p><p>“Yeah. I think so, at least.” Claude looked at the new addition then back at Hilda, eyebrow raised. “How did you know?” </p><p>“I didn’t.” She took another sip of her drink and giggled. “I was going to ask you that every time someone new walked in. But, actually, I do know him."</p><p>“Oh?” Claude stirred his drink. “Good or bad?”</p><p>“Dandril. He, uh, he’s helped me out with stable duty a couple times. I didn’t realize he knew Baltie.” She mused. “Should I call him over? What if he thinks we’re on a date? Oh Goddess, Claude, I don’t want it to look like we’re on a date, what if-”</p><p>“I’m wounded.” Claude joked, an expression of mock-sadness on his face. “But I think it’s better if it looks like we’re on a date. I dunno, knowing that…” he thought about his words carefully. “…you’re smart about the kind of guys you pick to wrap around your finger. If he thinks you’re on a date with someone else, I think he’s more likely to try to find ways to impress you. To steal you away.” He nodded, satisfied with his conclusion. “What do you think?”</p><p>Hilda shrugged. “You know as well as I do that these guys don’t think that I <i>think</i> anything. It’s my shtick. I can probably get anything we want out of him, especially something as stupid as a fake legend. And why he’d spread it around. And why he’d try to prank <i>my</i> Baltie.” She pouted. “Should I wave him over? You can act jealous, or something. I dunno.” She downed the rest of her drink in one gulp. “You’re the tactician here.” She fluttered her eyelashes at him, getting into character. </p><p>Claude grinned. “I leave it to you, my lady.”</p><p>Hilda took a deep breath, twisted her rose-pink hair around a finger, then stood to her tiptoes and waved an arm in the air. “Oh! Dandril!” Her voice was sing-song, her eyes doe-wide as she looked over at him coyly. </p><p>The man looked over from the bar towards their table, first in confusion, then with surprise. He grabbed his drink from the bartender and strode over confidently, pulling a chair out to sit with them, ignoring Claude as he turned to face Hilda. Claude thought his eagerness was almost…creepy. He wasn’t sure how Hilda tolerated it. But he also knew that there were at least two men (maybe more) who had ended up with broken arms after trying something that Hilda didn’t like (don’t mess with Hilda).</p><p>“Hey there, Hilda.” Dandril took a sip of his drink, almost too big a sip, which he struggled to swallow, trying his best to smoothly cover up his mistake.</p><p>“It’s <i>so</i> good to see you, Dan.” Hilda used her stirring straw to poke obviously at the ice in her empty drink. “What are you doing down here?” </p><p>“Oh, I usually just drop by here on Wednesdays and Saturdays. It’s my spot, you know?” He looked over at Claude with disdain. “You should have let me know that you were interested in coming down here. I would have brought you.”</p><p>Claude ignored the glare from the other man, shot with an intent to anger him. Instead, he calmly took another sip of his drink. “Hillie, love,” he drawled, emphasizing the last word. “Who’s your friend?”</p><p>“Oh! I’m so sorry <i>babe</i>.” She,too, drew the last word out. “This is Dan. He’s a good…friend…of mine.” She winked at Dandril. “Dan, this is Claude. Claude, would you be a dear and get me another drink?”</p><p>“We’ve met. We’re both regulars.” Dan nodded his head reluctantly. </p><p>Claude hid a laugh as he got to his feet and faux-wobbled to the bar, feigning a drunkenness he did not feel. He leaned his elbows up to the counter and whispered to the bartender. “Kurt.”</p><p>“What’s up, my man? You haven’t even finished your first, but you’re unsteady. You okay?”</p><p>“It’s for Hilda. I’m just pretending. We’re…” He peeked over his shoulder, making sure Dandril was invested in his conversation with Hilda. “…do you know if Balthus and Dan have had any…interactions lately?”</p><p>“Dan won’t talk to ya, huh? Didn’t think you guys had bad blood.”</p><p>Claude exhaled sharply through his nose. “We don’t. Well, we don’t really talk. He just has a little…thing…for Hilda. And he does <i>not</i> like that she’s out with me.” He sighed and laughed. “You should have seen his face when she called me “babe”. It was like he was going to kill me, then and there. Anyway. You know Balthus. He’s too friendly for his own good. It doesn’t seem entirely consequential, but our lad mentioned that someone down at the bar told him he had to run around the monastery naked at midnight. We decided to get to the bottom of it. It’s probably harmless, but B’s is a friend, and some goofy espionage is miles better than whatever the fuck it is I normally do.”</p><p>“Ah, so your gal Hilda is Balthus’ ‘Hillie’, is she? A lot of knights that come down here have the hots for her.”</p><p>Claude nodded. “They’ve been close since they were kids. And she’s a bit of a flirt. Didn’t realize ol’ B talked about her a ton down here, though.”</p><p>Kurt laughed. “Claudester. Boy. He’s <i>always</i> going on about ‘his’ Hillie. He might not do it around you, but I’ve definitely heard an earful.” The bartender passed a drink over the counter to a waiting woman before turning back to Claude. “You know. If Dan’s the kind of boy to get possessive about the gal he likes, he probably didn’t take kindly to Balthus’ declaration the other night that any guy who wanted to court our pink-haired lady had to prove themselves by fighting him first.” The man sighed. “We joke about it, but there’s a reason they call him the King of Grappling.”</p><p>The gears in Claude’s head turned. “Balthus is a man of his word.”</p><p>Kurt nodded. “Always has been, always will be. Stubbornly noble, ironically, that one.”</p><p>“Running around naked, though. No gauntlets, no armor. He didn’t state any conditions for this fight, did he?”</p><p>Kurt shook his head, pouring out another drink for a gesturing customer behind Claude. “Not that I heard, and I hear everything round these parts. You thinkin’ Dan’s scheming to get ‘im in an unfair match?”</p><p>“Well, it makes sense. Hilda told me earlier that the boys just haven’t been hitting on her anymore. If Balthus is threatening them…” Claude shrugged. “I shouldn’t leave them for too long. Hilda can take care of herself, but that doesn’t mean I like Dan’s vibe.”</p><p>Kurt passed him Hilda’s drink and rapped on his temple. “You’ve got a good head, boy. I’ve got a soft spot for you and Baltie. Let me know what happens.”</p><p>Claude slid back into his chair and silently passed Hilda her drink. Dandril doesn’t even notice him come back, intently focused on whatever nonsense he was blathering on about to a very disinterested Hilda, who pipes up with a “wow” or a “oh my Goddess, Dan!” every so often, widening her eyes and looking up at him from under her lashes. </p><p>Generally, when they go into town together, Hilda will shoot him a “help me” look if she needs him to save her from a boring guy. That being the case, Claude was completely taken by surprise as Hilda’s voice started to rise, and rise, and kept rising, and-</p><p>“<i>Look!</i> Just, just, shut <i>up</i> Dan! You don’t know a thing about Baltie. And if you say one more idiotic thing about him, I’m going to-” </p><p>“Oh, is that how it is? Is that what it is, Hilda? Well, I’m going to show you that Balthus isn’t as strong as you think he is, and if you for one second do not understand in that stupid little pink head of yours that I’m twice the man that he is-”</p><p>“ARGH! Shut the <i>fuck</i> up!” Claude rarely heard her swear with such vitriol, and before he could even react, Hilda had climbed over the table. She slammed gold on the bar as she strode out the door, a surprisingly menacing walk that contrasted with her usual demeanor. </p><p>Claude got to his feet leisurely. “Dan, I’d watch your back, if I were you. Hilda’s good with an axe.” Dandril seethed as Claude left him at the table, following Hilda out. </p><p>- - -</p><p>Claude caught up to Hilda pretty quickly, but she insisted on making a beeline directly to her room (”I’m angry, Claude. I gotta be alone for a bit,”), so he found himself wandering the star-lit monastery grounds. He had another hour before Sylvain and Balthus were expecting him, and for some reason, a reason he had no logic behind (or so he told himself), his feet led him to Byleth’s door. </p><p>He knew it was a bit weird. Most nights, he’d go for walks to clear his head, to be alone in the silence of the darkness. And most nights, he’d wander by Byleth’s door. He’d imagine knocking (”Hey Teach! I just happened to by passing by, and-”), and she’d open the door with a smile and ask him to tea. </p><p>It wasn’t like they didn’t spend any time together. Honestly, if Claude thought about it, he spent more time with her on any given week than with anyone else. They’d work together, planning out the next mission, gathering intelligence, mapping out tactics. He’d end up distracting her with quips and jokes, and she’d play along for a bit before remembering that they were supposed to be getting shit done, and she’d look at him with mock-sternness (”Claude, you can flirt with me at lunch, we need to finish strategizing,”).</p><p>He sat down on the deck by the pond and sighed. He was great at flirting with her. He was even great at opening up to her. Flirting was easy, and opening up was hard. He would touch her shoulder, or her hand, and she’d laugh. Or he’d tell her his plans, his goals, his life’s ambitions, and she would listen, genuinely, patiently. There was something about that laugh, the way she puffed her cheeks out when she was thinking, the way she just <i>was</i>…</p><p>He kneaded his forehead with his knuckles. <i>It was just Teach.</i> But she wasn’t <i>just</i> Teach, to him anymore. She hadn’t been, not since the ball. Teach was Byleth, she was beautiful, she was smart, and kind, and a little weird, and incredibly strong. </p><p>He got to his feet suddenly, letting his heart lead him before he could let his brain change his mind. He took a deep breath as he approached Byleth’s door again. This time, he stepped towards it, instead of past it. This time, he would knock, this time-</p><p>-no.</p><p>Why was this so scary? </p><p>
  <i>Idiot.</i>
</p><p>He stepped away again, finding himself at Sylvain’s door before he could process what had just happened.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Find me on tumblr @ preetsposting!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Idiots, all of them.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Felix and Sylvain do some early-morning sparring,  Balthus and Hilda sort out their A-support, and Claude's brain just cannot process the summer outfit.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“So what you’re telling us is that Hilda got into a fight with the guy who told Balthus to run around naked, cussed him out, then ran to her room?”</p><p>Claude nodded. “Don’t forget what the bartender said. Dan’s probably trying to lure Balthus into an unfair fight.”</p><p>Balthus sunk back into his chair, arms behind his head. “It’s not every day that girls get into fights in <i>my</i> honor.” His boisterous laugh was almost dopey. “Anyway. Dan wants to fight me, huh?”</p><p>“I mean, who <i>doesn’t</i> want to fight you, B?” Sylvain laughed and pulled a glass out of a drawer, pouring some whiskey for Claude. </p><p>“Well, I can’t leave a challenge un-challenged. If he wants to fight me naked, who am I to shy from it?” Balthus puffed out his chest. </p><p>“Well, he won’t be naked, Balthus. But you will be. I mean, if you really want to see this through, that is.”</p><p>“Oh. Right.” Balthus placed his knuckles to his forehead, like some sort of ancient statue. “Sounds like fun, anyway. Never fought naked, before. Not sure I can keep calling myself the King of Grappling if I shy away from something new.”</p><p>“B, why <i>are</i> you fighting guys who want to court Hilda?” Claude took a sip of the whiskey Sylvain poured him, nodding appreciatively. “I mean, you said it yourself, she can take care of herself. And you’ve never struck me as particularly possessive.”</p><p>Balthus rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Honestly? I went to see Holst the other day. Neither of us have been huge fans of the guys who’ve been hangin’ around her, and we wanna make sure they’re in it for the right reasons. They don’t even have to fight me. They just gotta be smart about how they treat her. And if they’re stupid enough to fight me, well, I’m strong enough to fight ‘em back.” He nodded assuredly.</p><p>“You do realize Hilda came to us the same day we got your letter asking us if we knew why guys had stopped hitting on her, right?”</p><p>“Word gets around fast.” Balthus shrugged. “So, does she know now that it was me?”</p><p>Claude shook his head. “We didn’t get a chance to talk after she nearly tore Dan’s guts out. I don’t even really know what exactly happened there.”</p><p>Balthus sighed. “I should probably fess up to her, yeah?”</p><p>Sylvain finished off his glass. “It’s up to you, man. But if you want my advice, it’d be to tell her what you did, why you did it, and how you feel about her.”</p><p>“Rich coming from you, man.” Balthus let out a good-natured chuckle. </p><p>“Hold on, what’d I miss here?” Claude looked between the other two men. “Sylvain? You got a lady love you’re not telling me about?”</p><p>“Don’t worry about it, man.” A blush made it’s way to Sylvain’s already drink-ruddy cheeks. “We’re talking about Balthus.”</p><p>The three continued to banter into the night, coming to absolutely zero conclusions (”Typical,” Hilda would remark, later). </p><p>- - -</p><p>For some reason, Sylvain was up at the ass-crack of dawn. His head was throbbing from all the whiskey from the night before (no regrets, however), and as he blearily widened his eyes to the sun that slipped in through the window, he was firmly reminded of the fact that he had actually admitted to Balthus that he was in love with…with…</p><p>Ugh.</p><p>He buried his face back into his pillow. Even completely alone in his room, he had a hard time really thinking about it. </p><p>
  <i>It’s not like anything would happen, anyway. Or could happen. We both have heirs to produce. I have ladies climbing up me as if I was an entire grove of trees. And he deserves someone better for him, someone who doesn’t have a caged-up heart, someone who can give themselves to him fully. That can show him the ferocity of love that he shows everyone else, even under the mask he hides it under.</i>
</p><p>A knock sounded on his door. </p><p>
  <i>Perfect timing.</i>
</p><p>“Sylvain. Get your ass out of bed. You were supposed to meet me on the training grounds 15 minutes ago.” The gruff voice of Felix was the last (but also maybe only) thing he wanted to hear right now. </p><p>Sylvain let out an incoherent groan. “Mmm. Coming. Coming. Let me get dressed-”</p><p>A sigh made it’s way through the door. “You’re hungover.”</p><p>“No, I’m not.” Sylvain threw on a shirt on over his bare chest and traded his loose sweatpants for some tighter leggings.</p><p>“It’s hard to believe you when your eyes are so red.” Felix scoffed as Sylvain threw the door open. “Be more careful. I’m not going easy on you, just because you’re a careless idiot.” Even in his admonishment, there was a twinkle in his eye. </p><p>He had always thought Felix was particularly handsome. Prettier than any of the girls he had courted and more fun to be around (even with the constant abuse). Even as kids, he knew there was something special about the two of them, together. Hence, the promise that they would die together, that not one day would be spent on this Earth where they would have to be without the other. </p><p>The smaller man led the way to the training grounds, wordlessly. Sylvain stared at him from behind, taking him in. His lithe form, the way his hair was wrapped in his signature inky black ribbon, the stray strands that escaped, the way the sleeves of his shirt hugged the muscles of his arms -</p><p>
  <i>You absolute moron. What has gotten into you?</i>
</p><p>- - -</p><p>Sylvain could barely find the energy within himself to dodge Felix’s attacks. The wooden training sword clunked against his head and his arms, his lance barely knocking against it as it headed towards his stomach. </p><p>“Mercy?” Felix growled as he pinned the redhead to the ground for the umpteenth time. </p><p>“Never.” Sylvain snarled, still somehow determined to turn things around. He laced his fingers in Felix’s ink-black hair, digging his nails into his scalp. For the briefest moment, he resisted the urge to pull Felix in, meet those (damnably) soft lips with his own. Instead, he shoved him sideways and rocketed his knee into the tough muscle of Felix’s abdomen, pushing him down onto the ground and reversing their positions. </p><p>There was something to be said about seeing Felix from this vantage, straddled over his hips. His hair had come undone in strands, splaying across the floor of the training hall, his eyes wide with surprise, his hands instinctively grasping at Sylvain’s chest (albiet, to push him off). </p><p>Sylvain’s moment of hesitation was enough to lose him his brief advantage. Felix pushed him downwards and toppled him to the ground as he got to his feet and pressed the tip of his training sword to Sylvain’s neck. </p><p>Sylvain groaned. “Fine. Mercy.”</p><p>- - -</p><p>“You were awful today.” Felix tossed a clean towel at a damp Sylvain, both fresh out of the sauna. “What’s gotten into you?”</p><p>“Distracted.” Sylvain frowned as he toweled himself off. “Claude and I decided to take over from the counselor once a week. Still thinking a bit about yesterday.” He wasn’t technically lying. <i>I’m distracted by you, idiot. Idiot, idiot, idiot…</i></p><p>Felix had reacted defensively when Sylvain had pinned him to the ground, but the moment was somehow stuck in the warrior’s mind. It’s not like it was even abnormal for them to be found on the floor when sparring (they fought with few rules), but something had made it’s way into Sylvain’s gaze when he was looking down on him that stirred up a handful of feelings that he had always pushed away. </p><p>Felix eyed his best friend, scanning his bare shoulders, his defined muscles, the way he ruffled his own hair while drying it off. Without thinking, he impulsively reached over and ran a hand through Sylvain’s copper curls. </p><p>“What was that for, Fe?”</p><p>Felix looked down at his own hand, surprised. <i>So soft.</i> “Nothing.” He grunted. “Forget it.”</p><p>- - -	</p><p>Balthus had taken to an extra training session before lunch. Now that he had no shortage of challengers for Hilda’s heart, he figured a little extra practice wouldn’t go to waste. </p><p>A training dummy lay decimated at his feet, stuffing pouring out on the ground as he laid into the next one. His gauntlets were starting to splinter, but he didn’t particularly care, right now. It was all raw energy. Pent up. Frustrated. Sad. </p><p>He punched, again, and again, grunting out into the air with each hit. He remembered what he had told Claude and Sylvain. </p><p>
  <i>They don’t even have to fight me. They just gotta be smart about how they treat her.</i>
</p><p>Was there seriously not one man out there who wasn’t a knucklehead? Even the weakest of the knights had tried to ambush him after he had allowed sneak-attacks. If some guy just took him out for a beer, man-to-man, and was <i>good</i> to Hilda, he’d lay back. A simple “Hey man, I know you’ve always taken care of her, but I want to treat her well.” - was that too much to ask? </p><p>Honestly, to him, any man who thought he had to fight another man for a girl’s heart, and didn’t take her feelings into account - now, that was a man not worth another moment of Hilda’s time. </p><p>“Baltie?” He was shook back into reality, spinning suddenly to face the entrance of the training hall as a voice called out to him. “Training at this hour? How unexpectedly diligent of you.”</p><p>Hilda peered into the training hall, her hair up in a messy bun on top of her head. Her eyes widened slightly at the sight of Balthus, shirtless, sweaty, an absolute <i>wall</i> of muscle (<i>drool</i>).</p><p>“Ah, Hilda! How are things? Anything…of note to report?” He raised an eyebrow pointedly. They probably should talk about it. </p><p>“I’m not sure what you mean.” She frowned meaningfully. “Plus, you probably already talked to Claude, right? He probably told you I got into a fight.” <i>A fight over you, idiot. But I think he knows better than to tell you that part.</i></p><p>“Oh, I don’t know. You haven’t been approached by any other lovelorn goons lately, have you?” <i>Besides me. I’m a lovelorn goon, but I don’t count. What, it’s not like I’m going to beat myself up.</i></p><p>“Oh, <i>now that you mention it</i>-” she rolled her eyes, “it’s been a few days since any guys flirted with me." She muttered something incomprehensible under her breath.</p><p>“Fantastic. They got the hint.” His tone was sour. </p><p>“Whoa, whoa, wait a second. Are you pulling some sort of weird prank on me?”</p><p>“Course not, girlie. Just doing my best to keep my promise to Holst, is all.” He sheepishly rubbed at the back of his neck. <i>Why is she cute when she’s grumpy?</i></p><p>“Oh, not this again. That was ages ago! I'm sure my brother's forgotten all about it.” Hilda let out an overly large sigh. Holst probably, definitely, had not forgotten all about it. </p><p>“Dead wrong, pal. I actually had the chance to see him recently, and he had a new request for me. Guys here have the gall to consider you a potential bride. It's my job to test 'em. See if they're worthy.” He puffed his chest out and winked. “Since Holst isn't here to do the honors, I've spread the word that nobody is fit to marry you unless they can defeat the Great King of Grappling in a fight.” </p><p>“<i>What?!</i> That's exactly the same as getting rid of them!” Hilda puffed her cheeks out in incredulity. </p><p>“How so? It only eliminates the guys who are dumb enough to take up the challenge.” Balthus shrugged. </p><p>“No one is that dumb. No one around here thinks they can beat the Stupendous King of Grappling or whatever.” Hilda rolled her eyes and twisted her hair around a finger. <i>But I’d like to see them try. Sounds hot.</i></p><p>“That's why I leveled the playing field by allowing sneak attacks. Plenty have already tried their luck. One guy actually tried to strangle me in my sleep.” He laughed heartily and mimicked a strangling motion around his neck, sticking his tongue out. </p><p>“Wow, a sleep-strangler. He sounds like husband material.” Hilda stifled a giggle behind a hand. </p><p>“You could spend your whole life searching and never find a match for Balthus the Great. The only people who stand a chance are Holst...and me!” He slung an arm around her, pulling her into a sweaty hug. <i>Okay, maybe I would be willing to beat myself up. A little. For you.</i></p><p>“To prove that you're worthy of my hand in marriage, you're going to fight...yourself?” Hilda snuggled in a little closer, hugging him back. </p><p>“I always knew I was my own worst enemy. One day, I'll finally meet my equal in battle. Me.” Balthus laughed and swept her up onto his shoulders. “Now. Lunch, eh?”</p><p>- - -</p><p>Claude had to do a double-take when Byleth approached their table in the dining hall. </p><p>It was a warm day out, sure, but Teach in the student’s summer outfit raised his temperature in a way that he would have a hard time putting off on the weather. Sylvain had once asked him if he was a chest-man or an ass-man. “Not sure,” he had replied, “depends on the lady.” On this lady, specifically, he was an <i>everything</i>-man. Damn, did she just look…good. So good.</p><p>Sylvain wolf-whistled, earning him a whack across the back of the head from Felix.</p><p>Dorothea placed her chin in the vee of her hands, looking dreamily at Byleth as she sat down. “Professor, I can’t tell if you’re wife goals or life goals, right now! It’s absolutely unfair.”</p><p>A pink blush dusted itself across Byleth’s nose and cheeks. “Calm down, you lot. Its laundry day, and a woman only has so many pairs of ripped tights.” </p><p>Claude tried his hardest not to stare at her from across the table, instead looking very interestedly at his meal. He would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about Byleth in this outfit before during his student years. Seeing her in it now sent a flood of old fantasies racing back into his head. He could feel himself turning redder (somehow) as he shoved forkfuls of fish into his mouth. </p><p>“Gotta go, guys. Have, uh, have some planning I need to get done.” He stood from the table abruptly. Hilda gave him a knowing look as the others said their farewells, caught up in conversation. </p><p>Claude made his escape, the breeze outside on the way back to his quarters a welcome relief to the burning occurring across his cheeks.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Find me on tumblr @ preetsposting! I will take your requests and thoughts :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Dorothea writes into Sylvain and Claude's dropbox, Claude and Hilda have a <i>talk</i> about Byleth, Sylvain and Felix fight, fight, fight...</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <i>Claude and Sylvain,</i>
</p><p>
  <i>You simply <b>must</b> help me. I write to you with total trust and confidence, the surety of a heroine in her heroes, those that will help her solve her desperate plight.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>You see, I am in love. Oh, am I in love! The object of my affections, I simply cannot keep my mind off of her. Her hair shines like amethyst, her eyes both sharp and kind, her mind encompasses the most thoughtful and intelligent personality I have ever met.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>What’s the problem, Dorothea, you ask? You have never been known to shy away at a challenge, to ask a pretty girl out on a date. You have always been the heroine of your own story. You are even the heroine for others, ensuring that others find love easily. Goddess, you probably think I should be in that office, with you! (If you would like to discuss that, I am available!)</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Well, she’s my best friend. My number one confidant. She’s seen my heart broken again and again, and she’s seen me break innumerable hearts. We already hold hands and walk through the monastery, laughing and talking. We have picnics, we train together, we make tea, we gossip, we fall asleep in each other’s quarters. But I want it to be more. I don’t think she loves me like that.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Boys, you know I’ve wanted to get wife-d up from the minute I stepped onto this campus. I found more purpose than that, at Garreg Mach. And I found her - she cares about me for who I am. She’s curious, she listens, she puts my hair into intricate braids and we get drunk off wine. I’ve met more than my share of people over the last 6 years, where I’ve said “I’d be happy being their wife”, but never have I felt that I want someone to be <b>my</b> wife, so strongly. And this feeling has just grown over the last few years, fighting together and working together.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>I don’t know how to get my best friend to fall in love with me. And I’m too scared to just tell her. What do I do?</i>
</p><p>
  <i>With all my love,</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Dorothea</i>
</p><p>- - -</p><p>After leaving the dining hall, Claude, took the long way around to the room he and Sylvain had claimed. (<i>No one’s going to find me in that office, today. It says on the door that it’s a Wednesday office. Not a Thursday one.</i>)</p><p>He brought Dorothea’s letter to his nose. It smelled tastefully of perfume. He wondered if she had talked to Hilda about this before, or if it was just something that she had finally opened up about now, to them, in this letter. </p><p>How <i>do</i> you make the person you spend the most time with fall in love with you? </p><p>“Ugh. I need Hilda for this one.” He muttered to no one in particular, getting back onto his feet. </p><p>Hilda was nowhere to be found, but Claude didn’t look as hard as he probably should have (just in case he found Byleth again - running away a second time would be awfully suspicious). He left a message with the gatekeeper that he’d be working at a bench by the pond, and if he saw her or Dorothea, to send them his way.</p><p>He hunkered down near the fishing pond, quill in hand, gazing outward idly at the way the sun sparkled on the water. It was a mesmerizing shade of green-blue (<i>just like Byleth’s eyes</i>), the gentle waves forming soft curves (<i>like Byleth’s</i>) as the wind blew at the water. </p><p>He had always done a fairly decent job ignoring his (massive) crush on Byleth (”No, I’m not <i>in love</i> with her, Sylvain…” he had said on more than one occasion, as if trying to convince himself). Sure, she was the only person he had actually opened up to at the academy, and sure, he fell into a deep depression when he thought she had died, and sure, when he slept with other women they always had light seafoam green hair and toned muscles, and sure, he cried for two hours when she met him in the cathedral that fateful day, and sure…</p><p>Goddess, he wasn’t sure of anything. He had <i>leader things</i> to do. Battle plans. Schemes. Gambits? (”I dunno, I just come up with shit to do.” He had told Yuri, once). </p><p>He let a drop of ink fall to the paper as he started to draft a letter to Judith. After they had defended the monastery from the Empire’s forces at the end of the last month, they definitely needed more troops. Hilda had suggested that it would be perfect to have Judith around - he already owed her more than he could pay back, anyway, what was another impossible debt?</p><p>- - -</p><p>“There you are!” He raised his head at Hilda’s voice. She bounced over to the bench he was sitting at and made herself some space next to him. “The gatekeeper said you were looking for me.” She fluttered her eyelashes. </p><p>“Right. Need your help with this.” He ruffled through the papers he had brought out with him and pulled out Dorothea’s letter. “This seems like one you should tackle.”</p><p>Hilda scanned the letter and set it back down. “Yeah. I kind of figured this was going on. I think we’re going out into the town tomorrow. I’ll try to talk to her a little more then.”</p><p>Claude nodded in thanks. “Let me know how it goes.”</p><p>Hilda winked. “Of course! And <i>you</i> let me know if you want to talk about your problem, Mister Leader Man.”</p><p>Claude tried in vain to stop a blush from rising up to his face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”</p><p>“Don’t you? I dunno, it’s pretty <i>telling</i> when a guy does a double take, blushes, then <i>leaves</i> when a hot girl walks into the room.” She let out a scoff. “You’re not fooling anyone, Claude. Remember when we were students? <i>Hey Teach! Tea? Hey Teach! Can I talk to you about this? Hey Teach! Hey Teach!</i>” she did her best to imitate Claude. “Then, remember when you danced with her at the ball? You stood and stared at your hands for a solid 30 minutes after that, before mumbling something about needing air.” </p><p>He sighed. “Okay, okay. You don’t need to drag it out. It’s not like it can go anywhere, anyway. We’ve got a war to fight. And I’m comfortable pining after her! Its easy. I like being a melodramatic little shit.” A grimace disguised as a smile made its way to his face. The words seemed to spill out of his mouth as he attempted to defend himself. “Plus, who knows what things are going to be like in Fodlan after this is all over?” </p><p>“I will punch out the next person who somehow thinks you’re a fearless risk taker.” Hilda leaned towards Claude, bapping the top of his head with her hand. “You’re an idiot, Claude Von Riegan.”</p><p>“But she’s <i>Byleth</i>, Hilda. She’s possibly the most important woman on this damned continent.” </p><p>“That doesn’t mean that you can continue to walk around like a rejected teenager for the rest of your life, dumbass.” Hilda puffed her cheeks out in frustration. “I’m not saying you have to do anything now. But I’m just saying, it’s probably worth a shot.” She stood up from the bench, grabbing Dorothea’s letter. “Think about it. I’ll talk to you later.”</p><p>- - -</p><p>Sylvain replayed the events of their morning sparring session in his head over and over, pretending that instead of kneeing Felix in the stomach, he had leaned upwards and captured those lips in his own. He imagined how Felix would react, first stiffening with shock, then melting into his touch, dragging his hands roughly down Sylvain’s body, ripping his armor off of him, pushing his hips down in a circular motion…</p><p>He bit at his lower lip and tightened his thigh muscles in an endeavor to stop himself from getting hard. He brushed the horse he was tending to a bit quicker, focusing on the way the bristles came in contact with the soft hair, the faint lines left as he moved the brush with the grain. Felix was just a couple horses down from him, tending to his own, and he didn’t really have the energy to explain why he was half-hard in the stables. But also, a romp in the hay sounded pretty nice…</p><p>“Hey, dumbass. You’ve been brushing that same patch of fur for five minutes now.” Felix yelled over, raising an eyebrow. “I’m almost done here. Are we going to spar again later or not?”</p><p>Sylvain realized that, yes, in fact, he had been brushing that same patch of horse for a little while now. “Distracted.”</p><p>“That’s what you said this morning, fuckwit.” Felix rolled his eyes. “Get it together. Let’s get moving.”</p><p>Their second sparring session of the day, somehow, went even worse than the first, but Felix did not let up insisting that Sylvain should be able to get at least one win on him. </p><p>“I’m hungry.” Sylvain pouted. </p><p>“Good.” Felix grunted. “We can eat later. I’m not satisfied.”</p><p>“<i>You’re not satisfied?</i>  You don’t have push me until I die, Fe. I don’t see the point.” Sylvain grimaced. “We have tomorrow. We have the day after.”</p><p>“You still need to know how to win when you’re exhausted and off your guard. The longer it takes you to win, the longer I’m going to work us.” Felix seemed oddly frustrated. Blood formed at a split on his lip.</p><p>“I don’t see the point. I’m not going to be like <i>this</i> in battle.” Sylvain gestured at his head, tapping at his temple with a bruised knuckle. He could feel his anger rising. He was hungry, he was tired. Felix already knew that he wasn’t at his best. Why did he continue to <i>insist</i> that they do this? He just wanted a fucking break, some time with his head, to scream into his pillow.</p><p>“You don’t know that, idiot.” Felix spat. </p><p>“<i>You don’t know that, idiot</i>.” Sylvain mocked him. “Give it a break. Just take your wins. I’m exhausted, Felix. I don’t have time for your bullshit. I have other shit to worry about right now.”</p><p>“<i>I’m</i> not about to fucking lose you in battle because you’re stupid little brain is wrapped around some girl or some inane problem!” Felix growled through his teeth, his eyes fire, his voice ice. </p><p>Sylvain stared at him coldly, a sudden knot forming in his gut. “That’s what you think? That’s why you think I’m all over the place today? It’s not your fucking fault if I die. It’s <i>my</i> fault if I die of stupidity.”</p><p>“I don’t give a fuck why your brains are scrambled eggs. If your head falls at my feet or you get burnt to a crisp because you’re being a stupid fuck, it <i>is</i> my problem. If you die, it’s going to be because I didn’t train with you well enough, or I didn’t protect you well enough.” Felix stared back, eyes narrowed.</p><p>Sylvain grabbed Felix by the collar, pulling them face-to-face. “Fuck off, asshole.”</p><p>Felix crossed the distance and pressed their lips together roughly.</p><p>- - -</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Find me on tumblr @ preetsposting :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Felix and Sylvain are interrupted, Balthus makes some questionable decisions, and Claude goes for a little walk to the Goddess Tower, with unexpected results.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This...is not my best chapter. That's why it took so long - the little chat between our three boys here just wouldn't <i>happen</i>. Please accept the promise of spicy content in the next chapter as apology. :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sylvain stiffened. This is not how he expected this to go, and he wasn’t about to complain, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still <i>mad</i> at his stupid fucking idiot of a best friend. </p><p>So instead of pulling away, he dropped his training lance and shoved Felix’s back into the nearest pillar. He pressed his hips into the smaller man’s to keep him pinned and ran one of his hands up into the inky black void of messy hair, tangling into it. </p><p>“Took you long enough.” The vocal equivalent of a raised eyebrow from behind them sent them flying apart like magnets of the same polarity, the ribbon that bound Felix’s hair floating slowly to the ground as they both turned, wide eyed, to face the intruder. </p><p>Byleth stood in the doorway, a frustratingly smug expression playing across her face. “Sorry to interrupt. Balthus and Claude are looking for you, Sylvain, and they’re on their way here. I figured you’d prefer my interruption to theirs.”</p><p>Felix snatched his ribbon from the ground, his face a bright beet color. He walked towards the door as he put his hair back up, his eyes narrowing as they settled on Byleth. “Not a word.”</p><p>She nodded at him, all but grinning. “Not a single one.”</p><p>He did not look back at Sylvain as he left. </p><p>- - -</p><p>“Man, I ran into Felix, and he looked <i>pissed</i>.” Balthus commented as he bounded into the training hall. “What’s up with that?”</p><p>“B, I love you man, but fuck off.” Sylvain’s gut had knotted into a feeling of unease, an uncomfortable contrast to the brief euphoria of the previous moment. </p><p>“Fine, fine.” Balthus held up both of his hands, surrendering. </p><p>“Well, since it doesn’t seem like you’re…busy…anymore, my quarters?” Claude tipped his head at Sylvain, almost knowingly. “There have been developments.”</p><p>- - -</p><p>Once they had reached Claude’s quarters, Sylvain did not hesitate to locate and pour himself a drink. </p><p>“Sorry, but not actually.” He groaned as he sunk into a lone armchair, curling up as he faced Claude and Balthus who were sitting on the couch across from him. “So, what in Sothis’ ever loving nippled tits is going on?”</p><p>“Well, our good pal Dan found me in the dining hall. Apparently, Hilda almost punching him out and leaving me at the table put me in his good graces?” Claude shrugged. “I don’t entirely understand it. I don’t entirely understand any of this, to be completely honest. It’s like a poorly written aside to my life.”</p><p>Sylvain failed at biting back an acidic chuckle. “Tell me about it.” </p><p>Claude shot him a bemused look before continuing. “Anyway, apparently this puts me in the club of <i>Balthus is probably going to beat us up for hitting on Hilda</i>-”</p><p>“Like they know a thing about me anyway-” Balthus grumbled.</p><p>“And apparently, this wonderful secret club of men and women, having decided that I am among their ranks, have made me privy to some…secrets.” Claude dramatically lowered his voice to a whisper. </p><p>“Oh?” Sylvain leaned forward, interest slightly piqued. He wiggled his eyebrows at Claude. “Tell me, tactician dearest. I am <i>dying</i> here.”</p><p>“Well, apparently Balthus has made a fair few enemies, being, well, Balthus.”</p><p>The muscular man sighed exasperatedly. “Hey pal, it’s not my fault there’s a bounty on my head. I mean, look. Sure, I get into a lot of fights. But it’s not like I go looking for them. I’m an easy target. And I like to fight. And there are a lot of people who deserve a punch or two and I don’t hesitate if that needs to happen then and there. And-”</p><p>“So it’s a little bit your fault, is what I’m hearing.” Sylvain raised an eyebrow.</p><p>“Anyway. There’s a whole <i>take down Balthus</i> plot in the works. Dan’s a part of it. Trying to run him out of Abyss so that they can have some peace.”</p><p>“Buddy, they’re the reasons we <i>don’t</i> have peace! Trying to take advantage of Yuri, or me, or Hilda, or being generally shit people, or trying to trick Hapi into sighing, or calling Constance a crackpot for her inventions, or not paying their tab, or…” Balthus pounded a fist on the table, leaving a small crack in the wood. “Oops.” He dragged his glass over the crack in a weak attempt to obscure it from vision, scowling sheepishly. “Put it on my tab, Claude.”</p><p>“So Dan’s mad at Balthus over Hilda, and I assume the other members of this little group have their own grievances against our boy, like making them pay tabs or lay off his friends? So they want to embarrass him so he'll leave?”</p><p>Claude nodded. “Dan’s not the only one who's after Hilda. There’s a handful of them who want to try to ambush him on this midnight run Dan thinks he’s convinced him into. <i>Balthus said sneak attacks were okay.</i>” </p><p>Balthus stood up at this, his brow furrowed, teeth grit together. “And that’s why I’ve gotta fight them. If they’re stupid enough to take me up on this goddamn challenge, instead of just <i>asking</i> Hilda what she thinks of them, then they’re stupid enough to get beat. Claude here thinks we need to diffuse this. I think we should just let it happen. You know me. I’m not going to lose.” He cracked his knuckles.</p><p>“So…” Claude continued, holding back an eye-roll. “Balthus will be running around the monastery. Naked. Tomorrow night. So that he can get ambushed.”</p><p>“Look pal, when you put it that way…” Balthus scowled. </p><p>“What does Hilda think of all this?” Sylvain chewed on the inside of his cheek. “I haven’t seen her since lunch.”</p><p>“I don’t think Girlie will approve. We had a talk this morning. She thinks this whole thing is ridiculous-” </p><p>“Well, it is.” Claude leaned forward.</p><p>“-and I put my foot in my mouth, big time. Like, more than usual.” </p><p>“Oh, this has got to be good.” Sylvain took another sip of his drink and leaned back into the chair, pulling his legs up so he was curled into the armrests. </p><p>“Well, I told her that I would fight myself for her hand in marriage.”  Balthus knit his eyebrows together. “And she didn’t say anything weird about it. But I felt real dumb after, so I just scooped her up and carried her to lunch.”</p><p>“So you told Hilda that you were going to beat yourself up so you could marry her, and she didn’t even protest when your sweaty, post-training ass carried her all the way from the training hall to the dining hall?” Sylvain raised an eyebrow. </p><p>“Anyway, she won’t be around tomorrow night.” Claude voiced, impatiently. “Syl, we got a letter from Dorothea. I’d show it to you, but Hilda took it. Anyway, they’re going out tomorrow night. So at least she’ll be clear from this stupid-ass brawl nonsense.”</p><p>“But how will she ever see Balthus fight seven hundred and three people for her honor?”</p><p>“Hey man, Hilda can fight for her own honor.” Balthus bristled. “Holst and I are just fed up with the dipshits who don’t see her as a person. I remember, when she was 6, this guy handed her a flower, and…”</p><p>- - -</p><p>Sylvain left Claude’s room more confused that when he had entered it, an almost drunken haze filtering the conversation. <i>It was only one drink. I can’t be, like, DRUNK-drunk.</i></p><p>Thoughts of Felix would not leave his head. The excitement, the fear, the feeling of his lips, the way he didn’t look back when he left, the color of his eyes, the shape of his snarl…</p><p>He shook his head rapidly. <i>Should I go to him? Maybe. I should go to him.</i></p><p>He turned around and walked back, taking a few steps towards Felix’s quarters before shaking his head and moving towards his own. </p><p><i>He probably does not want to see me.</i> </p><p>- - -</p><p>Once the other two had left his room, Claude sighed deeply and leaned backwards in his chair, counting slowly to a hundred before getting to his feet, slipping his cloak on, and exiting the quarters himself.</p><p>The night-sky was extra-cloudy tonight, the light of the moon barely peeking through the mess of grey fluff that covered the deep blue sea of the sky. As Claude slipped out of his room, tracing his familiar late-night path around the monastery, he took a slight detour, avoiding his muscle memory’s instinct to walk past Byleth’s room, instead wandering upwards to the Goddess Tower. </p><p>He couldn’t help but think of her here, how could he not? He remembered his grand plans - the Golden Deer would gather back at the monastery just in time for the Millenium Festival, and he would whisk Byleth up here. She would blush and comment on how much he had changed, or how strong he looked, or how much he had grown. And he would tell her she was more beautiful than ever, then wrap his arms around her waist and pull her in, and then they would dance, and then…</p><p>“I can’t sleep either.”</p><p>A familiar voice rose from behind him. He turned to see Byleth pulling the hood of her cloak down, revealing her sea-green waves messily thrown upwards into a bun. <i>Goddess. She looks like a dream.</i></p><p>She smiled her gentle smile at him and walked forward, holding her hand outstretched. He instinctively reached his own out, and placed it on top of hers. The contrast in size was sweet and a little jarring. Her hands, though calloused and scarred, were petite, almost gentle looking, noticeable inches missing between her fingertips and his. </p><p>He pulled her arm gently, guiding her closer towards him as she entwined her fingers into his. Though the silence was comfortable, there was still a noticeable tension between them - an electric wall that sparked when their skin met. It was different than the hugs he would pull her into or the way he would place his hand on her shoulder. </p><p>She shivered slightly as they stood, faces mere inches apart. </p><p>She seemed nervous. He had never seen her like this before. </p><p>“Claude…I…” She started, before lapsing back into silence. </p><p>“Teach. You know you can tell me anything.” He took the final step between them, the clasped hands between them the only thing keeping their chests from touching. </p><p>“You know I’m not one for words.” He could see resolve click behind her eyes. “So maybe I’ll just show you.”</p><p>He held his breath. The moments as she got to her tiptoes and brought her face to his stretching out into hours in his mind. </p><p>He woke, sprawled across his couch, as her lips would have met his.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Find me on tumblr @ preetsposting.tumblr.com</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Felix and Sylvain finally have a bit of a talk, and Hilda takes a trip down memory lane before her day out with Dorothea.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Two chapters in two days?!?!? Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hilda had always had a bit of a crush on Balthus. He was always around, he was always nice to her, and he never treated her weird like other guys would (and he was hot). Well, besides the protectiveness. But she expected that, because he was not only a bit older than her, but also Holst’s best friend. </p><p>So, she always kept her crush to herself, not even disclosing it during the hushed giggles and gossip of sleepovers when she was younger or nights out at the bar with the girls when she was older. <i>There wasn’t really a point, anyway, was there? I mean, he sees me like a younger sister. Always has. And probably always will.</i></p><p>It had always ebbed and flowed a little. She never wanted for attention from any gender growing up, and she usually was able to ignore that persistent Balthus-shaped candle-flame in her (absolutely adorable) head. By the time she was a bit older, he wasn’t really around as much anymore, anyway - first at the officer’s academy, then on the constantly turning pages of the Adventures of Runaway Balthus. <i>No wonder there’s a bounty on my head,</i> he would remark, joking at his penchant for fighting and drinking and gambling. </p><p>But no matter what he went through, he never asked Holst for anything more than a couch to sleep on when he was passing through. He had a little pouch with him, full of trinkets, pretty rocks or a nice ribbon or other things of the like that he would dump out gently on the floor when he, Holst, and Hilda would spend the afternoon and evening together. </p><p>“These made me think of you, Hillie-girl!” He would puff out his chest and wink at her. “Can’t ever say I forgot about you, eh?”</p><p>- - -</p><p>One of these times was when she had just turned 18, before she was set to head to the Officer’s Academy. He was doing <i>some work</i> (she never really asked what) in the area, and <i>just figured I would stop by for a couple days, if that was okay.</i> And of course it was okay! Holst had to head out for some roundtable or the other, so it was just Balthus and Hilda for most of the day. </p><p>And that was when she realized that she really, <i>really</i>, might like Balthus. Like, more than just a little-girl crush. Like, a <i>what the fuck, when did he get so hot, why does my stomach feel funny, has his smile always been like that?</i> crush. They spent the whole day talking and laughing, him regaling her with tales of the shenanigans he had gotten into, joking and playing cards and rigging Holst’s office with pranks for when he got back. 	</p><p>At the end of the evening, just before Holst was slated to come home, he got all serious (very cute), and asked her to come sit on the chair next to him, instead of across the table. Though slightly confused, she obliged, settling in comfortably, noticing the strange electric feeling that coursed through the half-inch space between their thighs. </p><p>Balthus rummaged through one of the pockets on his overcoat, pulling out a small box.</p><p>“Here. Open it.” She noted his eyes on her face, scanning for her reaction as her hands delicately plucked the box from his palm. “I’m sorry I missed your birthday, Girlie. I hope this makes up for it.”</p><p>She remembered gasping with delight as she opened the box, her heart skipping. Inside was a pendant set on a thin golden chain, a beautiful bouquet of anemone flowers set with tiny different colors of gemstones. </p><p>She looked up at him. “Baltie! You didn’t have to! This is so beautiful, this is so pretty. Here, here. Put it on me.” She held the chain out to him and turned around in her seat so that he could clasp it behind her neck, which he did so gently. </p><p>She had a sudden realization as she turned around, gently fingering at the pendant. “Baltie…? You didn’t…you’re not out more money so you could get me a present, right?” She frowned. She remembered tearing up slightly. </p><p>“Not this time, pal, but you know I wouldn’t hesitate. For you.” He paused slightly before the last two words, his brows knit together. “I have a buddy who’s a jeweler. She owed me a solid after I beat some bandits from raiding her nifty little shop. And I wanted to get you something real special, like, real-real special, especially because you’re about to head out to the ‘cademy.” He grinned wide. “Now look here, I’ll be seeing you a lot more once you start there, since I live round those parts, but I just thought it would be nice. So you remember I’m always there for you. I’ll beat anyone’s ass who treats you like you’re dumb. I’m going to support you, no matter what. And don’t you forget that, ‘kay?” </p><p>“Baltie!” Hilda burst into tears and leapt into his arms, awkwardly leaning over her chair. “Oh, I love it! I love it so much!” </p><p>He awkwardly patted her on the head. “There, there, Hillie. It’s okay. Let me hug you right.”</p><p>He got to his feet and pulled her up, smushing her in a bear-hug. </p><p>
  <i>Oh Goddess. Why does he smell so nice. He hugs me all the time. Why does this one feel different. Oh no.</i>
</p><p>He pulled back from her and used his calloused thumb to wipe the tears away from under her eyes. “Now, we don’t want ol’ Holst thinking I’ve hurt you or something, huh?” His touch was so gentle, and she felt herself smile through her sniffles. </p><p>“Alright, Baltie. I’ll pull myself together.” She stood up straight and ran her fingers through her pigtails. “There.” </p><p>“Atta girl. Now, lets finish rigging up that bucket of water in Holst’s office, yeah?”</p><p>- - -</p><p>Hilda wore that necklace every single day since Balthus had given it to her. In class, in battle, on dates. Even now, as she got ready to head out for lunch, shopping, dinner, then the bars with Dorothea, she took a second to admire it in the mirror. <i>Damn, I look good, when I actually put in the work.</i></p><p>A gentle knock sounded at her door. “It’s me!” </p><p>“Coming!” She pinned a final strand of hair into place and skipped towards her door, letting in a beaming Dorothea. “Ooooh, you look so good! I <i>love</i> that dress on you. And your blush placement!” </p><p>“Oh, Hilda.” Dorothea giggled behind a hand. “You can’t keep complementing a girl like that. I might get the wrong idea.”</p><p>“Is it so bad if you do?” Hilda giggled. “Now, let’s get going.”</p><p>- - -</p><p>Usually, after the sunlight from his open blinds roused Felix, he would force himself to hop out of bed and splash cold water on his face, brew some coffee, and then head straight to train, occasionally stopping by Sylvain’s door on his way there to drag him along. </p><p>But, this morning, Felix woke and did not get out of bed. The feelings of idiocy and shame were immediate in flooding his brain and his body, and he could feel his heart drop into the pit of his stomach. His thoughts raced through his mind, contradictions and repetitions and battles and screams in his head. He felt hungover, even though he hadn’t drank.</p><p>
  <i>Idiot. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>Why did I do that? Why did I kiss him? </i>
</p><p>
  <i>And why did he kiss me back? </i>
</p><p>
  <i>Am I willing to be just another conquest to him? But would that be so bad? He could touch me all he wants. He could use me all he wants. I would be okay with that. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>I would hate that. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>It’s always been him. It’s always been Sylvain. And it’s got to be him. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>I don’t care if he uses me. But he wouldn’t use me. Would he? </i>
</p><p>
  <i>He cares about me too much. Right? </i>
</p><p>
  <i>Why did I have to go and be such a sap over this absolute fucking idiot and philanderer of a man? </i>
</p><p>
  <i>Why did he kiss me back? </i>
</p><p>
  <i>Would he do it again? </i>
</p><p>
  <i>Does he even want me, or was it just instinct? </i>
</p><p>
  <i>How could I ever think that was a good idea? </i>
</p><p>
  <i>I would do it again. I’d do it until I died. Again and again. He tasted so good. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>I hate myself. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>I hate Sylvain. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>I hate his curly hair and his liquid eyes and the way his hips felt pressed into mine and the way he talks and the way he jokes and the way he ruffles my hair and the way he calls me Fe.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Goddess fucking damn it. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>I am in love with Sylvain.</i>
</p><p>He did not make his coffee, he did not go to spar, and he definitely did not knock on Sylvain’s door. </p><p>Instead, he threw his sword at the wall. It stuck, point first. Nice. </p><p>Then he screamed into his pillow. </p><p>Then he wrote all of his feelings on a piece of parchment. He burnt it. </p><p>Then he wrote “Felix Hugo Gautier” on a piece of parchment. He burnt that one twice for good measure. </p><p>He screamed into his pillow again. If he could let himself cry, he probably would have, but he didn’t really think he had the energy to face his emotions in that vulnerable of a way. He hadn’t cried since Glenn. He wouldn’t cry over fucking Sylvain of all people.</p><p>- - -</p><p>“Yo. Fe.” Sylvain shuffled awkwardly in front of the door as he called through. It was barely noon. He wasn’t sure if Felix was just out of it, or ignoring him because they had kissed yesterday. Did Felix even mean to kiss him? Did he just completely misinterpret what happened? </p><p>No response. </p><p>“I, uh. I guess, I’m worried about you? And I wanted to say sorry. You know. About yesterday. Sorry if I made you mad.” He frowned. “We don’t have to talk about it, or anything.”</p><p>Still no response. </p><p>“But will you just tell me if you don’t want to talk to me anymore?”</p><p>He heard a slight shuffling as footsteps approached the door from the other side. It swung open a crack. </p><p>“I’m not mad at <i>you</i>, fuckwit. Now, go away.”</p><p>“I’m not going away until you tell me why you’ve locked yourself up all morning. Either you’re pissed with me or there’s something else you’re not telling me. And it’s probably bad, since I haven’t seen you training.”</p><p>Felix sighed and opened the door a bit further, a scowl on his face as he peeked through. He looked absolutely disheveled. “Fine. Come in.”</p><p>Felix was shirtless, still in his pajama pants. Sylvain tried not to focus on that. He slipped through the door and sat down cross-legged on the floor as Felix shut it after him. </p><p>“So?” The redhead gestured at nothing in particular, avoiding the sight of Felix before him. If he had any less self control, he would have taken the man then and there.  </p><p>“So, what, dumbass?” Felix grunted. </p><p>“Why are you hiding, <i>dumbass</i>?”</p><p>“Can’t a man have a day in peace?” Felix inhaled sharply and busied himself making tea. “I’m making tea.”</p><p>“I can see that. I’m not blind, Felix. Stop avoiding the question.” Sylvain sighed and got back up to his feet. Maybe a different tactic would work. “Am I that bad of a kisser?” He let a smile find it’s way to his face. As seriously frustrated as he felt right now, Sylvain Jose Gautier still loved to tease. </p><p>A bit of a flush crept up to his cheeks, but Felix still continued to ignore him, instead puffing his cheeks out and narrowing his eyes at Sylvain. </p><p>Fine. </p><p>Sylvain didn’t have time for this. </p><p>“Felix Hugo Fraldarius.” Sylvain put as much anger into his voice as he could muster, but his voice cracked on the last syllable. </p><p>“Glad you still remember my name.”</p><p>“Goddess. Fucking. Damn. It.” Sylvain didn’t know why he was in love with this man. This insufferable, stubborn, idiotic piece of shit. This absolute fucking moron who kissed him and ran away. Who didn’t really want Sylvain the way Sylvain wanted him. It was obvious. He was lucky he was pretty, and Sylvain was always going to be an absolute <i>sucker</i> for a pretty boy. “If that’s how it’s going to be, Fe, at least tell me you’re done with me.” He sat down again, this time on Felix’s bed. </p><p>Felix felt frozen in his own world. He felt so overwhelmed, and lost, and unsure of what to say. Of course he wasn’t done with Sylvain. They were best friends. Weren’t they? They were going to die together. But why couldn’t he speak? Why couldn’t he function, today? </p><p>Why did it feel like his heart was breaking, even though the man he loved was in his room, begging to talk to him? He just wanted to hug Sylvain. Maybe more than hug. Maybe keep Sylvain in here for the next three days. Maybe talk about every single thing under the sun, and fuck with the moonlight coming in through the windows, and cuddle up together and wake up in the morning and make tea together. </p><p>“I’m not done with <i>you</i>, Sylvain.” Felix spoke slowly, trying his best to remember how to form words. </p><p>“Then what? What <i>are</i> you done with? Us? Our friendship?” Sylvain was frustrated and exasperated at the same time. He felt defeated, but couldn’t back down. Not until he got an answer.</p><p>“Fucking idiot.” Felix set the two cups of tea he had just poured onto the table in the center of the room. “Yes. I’m done with our friendship.” </p><p>He stepped over to Sylvain and stood in front of him.</p><p>Sylvain felt his world crashing down as he stared, frozen, wide-eyed at Felix.</p><p>Felix turned and sat next to Sylvain on the bed, deliberately avoiding eye contact, staring very interestedly at something on the wall. “Because I’m done fucking pretending. I’m done pretending that I haven’t been in love with you since we were shit-headed children, Sylvain. And I’m done with our friendship, because I want you. As more than friends.” He turned his gaze to the ground. There. He had said it. Now Sylvain can reject him and they can just pretend nothing ever happened. That was how this worked, right?</p><p>“Stop playing with me, Felix.” </p><p>Felix turned to Sylvain, a slight expression of surprise making it’s way to his face, quickly morphing into anger. </p><p>“What, you think me fucking opening up is playing with you? Sylvain, I’m not good at this shit. Just tell me you don’t feel the same way, and we can move on.”</p><p>“Is that what you think is going to happen?” Sylvain whispered, the sudden playfulness of his tone shocking Felix. His breath caught in his throat as Sylvain leaned towards him. They were almost nose-to-nose. </p><p>Sylvain reached a hand up to cup Felix’s cheek, gently stroking the skin with his thumb. </p><p>“Felix, do you know why I’ve never had a serious partner, despite my hundreds of relationships, in all the time you’ve known me?” </p><p>“Because you’re a playboy. Because you want what you can’t have. Because you like teasing and chasing.” Felix scoffed, but his voice was gentler than he intended as he leaned into the softness of Sylvain’s palm. </p><p>“No, dummy.” Sylvain bridged the last inch between them. “It’s because I’ve been in love with <i>you</i>.”</p><p>And when their lips met, both men felt like the world had ended and started all over again.</p><p>- - -</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>find me on tumblr @ preetsposting.tumblr.com</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Small snippets following the day leading up to midnight. Claude and Byleth flirt while working; Dorothea and Hilda chit-chat at the bar; Petra enjoys Caspar and Linhardt's banter; the gang gathers right before Balthus' adventure. Minor spoilers for Petra and Caspar's A-Support.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry, I took forever to write a chapter and it's...this. For some reason, I equate "slow burn" to "never get to the plot". Also feeling a little bit out of my element, wasn't really able to get into their heads the way I had hoped to. Anyway, hope you enjoy the flirting!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Claude thought it was really funny how everyone on the fucking continent was busy killing each other and he, the guy who was supposed to fix it, was instead trying not to make googly eyes at his crush while they worked together to, you know, win said war. </p><p>“Claude. Hey. Claude.” Byleth waved a hand in front of his face, rousing him from whatever blank nonsense was going on in his head. “Are you doing okay?”</p><p>His eyes refocused, and he realized that he was staring right past Byleth, boring a hole into the wall behind her. “Oh. Um. Sorry, Teach. I’ve had a lot on my mind, lately.”</p><p>“You know you can tell me anything, right?” Her expression was one of gentle worry. “You know I’m here for you.” She let out one of those rare smiles that he loved so much. So much for trying not to make googly eyes. “And it’s pretty obvious right now that you’re not thinking about the true history of Crest Stones and Heroes Relics.”</p><p>“It’s okay. It’s kind of stupid, anyway. Don’t worry about me, Teacherino.” He sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. What was he supposed to say? <i>I’ve been in love with you for like six years and it’s getting worse and I feel REALLY dumb right now because we’re in the middle of a fucking war and-</i></p><p>She raised an eyebrow and started organizing the papers they had strewn across the table. They had mailed out their letter to Judith that morning, and they needed to figure out what their next steps would be, either with or without reinforcements. “Is this about Balthus? I was thinking about heading out tonight to watch the big event. And I know you know more about that than you’re letting on.”</p><p>“What makes you think that?” He winked. “Teach. I don’t know <i>anything</i>. I’m just a poor little handsome alliance leader stuck in a room with a pretty lady. A pretty <i>deadly</i> lady.”</p><p>Byleth scoffed and whacked him gently across the chest with a rolled up parchment. “What, you think I run around the monastery asking everyone if they dropped a hairclip for fun? It’s the best way to get the gossip. Like, I <i>know</i> the hairclip with pearls that I kept in my pocket for five years isn’t Sylvain’s. But it gives me an excuse to talk to him. And that boy has ever been able to keep his mouth shut around me, unlike you, the Master of Secrets.” </p><p>“Hey, can’t blame a guy. Don’t want my mouth to get me in trouble.”</p><p>Byleth looked at Claude for just a second longer than was probably necessary, lowering her lids slightly and raising her eyebrows. “Oh, how awful. I’d hate for your mouth to get you in trouble with me.” She looked pointedly at his lips before turning back to tidying the table.</p><p>Claude couldn’t pinpoint exactly why he could feel his cheeks redden, but, goddess be damned, he would live the rest of his life with a burning hot tomato face if it meant that she would keep looking at him like <i>that</i>.</p><p> </p><p>- - -</p><p>Dorothea and Hilda decided to pop over to one of the quieter venues in town, the pink-haired girl citing the desire for girl-talk over dancing. They swung into <i>The Rusty Blade</i>, a tavern run by a bubbly ex-knight who decided her calling was bartending instead. </p><p>“Welcome, girls!” She shouted from the other side of the room as they entered. “Seat yourself! I’ll be with you soon!”</p><p>They found a small table in the far corner of the bar to sit at, away from as many other patrons as they could get. Hilda put in two orders for the most ridiculous fruity cocktails gold could buy. </p><p>“Sooooo, full disclosure.” Hilda trilled while she swirled her drinks stirrer a few times, chin resting in the palm of her other hand. “I’m working with Claude and Sylvain on their little boredom project. And Claude gave me your letter. It’s totally fine if you don’t want to talk about it! I just. I figured we were going out together, and I thought I’d see if you wanted to!”</p><p>“Oh, Goddess. Well, I thought it would be worth a shot to get their perspective on it.” Dorothea grit her teeth slightly and took a sip. “You’re not upset I didn’t tell you sooner, right? I mean, I just wasn’t ready to talk about it. But chalk it up to our favorite idiots to outsource their responsibilities to you! Not that you aren’t suited for this, you’re probably more competent than they are, but-”</p><p>“No! No, I totally get it.” Hilda nodded vigorously. “Claude just thought it might be better for us to talk, since we already talk about most things anyway! But I don’t know how he’s going to get better at this <i>girl advice</i> stuff if he shoves all the women onto me.” She shrugged. “Not that I’m necessarily complaining. Am I rambling? I think I’m rambling.</p><p>“Girl, you’re good.” Dorothea laughed, her voice it’s signature sing-song. “Well. So you’ve read the letter, yes? I’m just at a complete loss! How in the name of Mittlefrank’s worst opening night am I supposed to tell my partner in crime that I’m simply head over heels for her, and have been since I first laid my eyes on her beauty?” She leaned back dramatically. “I just don’t think she’ll ever see me that way. Goddess, since I’ve known her, she’s never mentioned seeing <i>anyone</i> that way, not for my lack of asking.” </p><p>Hilda took a sip of her drink, a thought forming. “’Thea, have you ever considered that she’s never told you that she sees anyone in that way, because it’s <i>you</i> who she sees in that way?”</p><p>“What? Nonsense. Hilda, she can’t possibly…” Dorothea trailed off, brushing a loose strand of hair out of her face. “Well…I don’t think she can possibly…” She frowned. </p><p>“Look,” Hilda leaned forward. “Let’s just entertain this for a bit. Now…”</p><p>- - -</p><p>“Linhardt, Caspar, I am having the confusion.” Petra sat down across the table from the two men, one napping, one staring idly at the knights training across the way, hoping they would get into an actual fight (it is left as an exercise to the reader to figure out who was who). </p><p>“Sup, Petra!” Caspar perked up, grinning widely. </p><p>Linhardt blinked blearily, raising his head slightly from the table. “Oh, good. You two aren’t trying to kill each other anymore.”</p><p>Caspar furrowed his brow angrily. “Look, man, that was just-”</p><p>“Caspar, have the patience.” Petra sighed and held up a hand. “Lindhardt, Caspar and I have come to the ending of our worry together. We have spoken about our fathers and have decided to not murder the other.” </p><p>“That’s one way to put it!” If anyone could grumble with enthusiasm, it was Caspar. “She nearly sliced my head off! It was awesome!” </p><p>“Yeah, yeah. It’s nice to know you two are good, though. But if she had killed you, maybe I would be able to nap in peace.” Linhardt puffed his cheeks out, but the glance he shot Caspar was affectionate nonetheless. “Anyway, Petra. What were you confused about?”</p><p>“Oh! Yes.” Petra nodded. “I had want to know why Balthus is doing a naked run tonight. What will the point of it be?”</p><p>“Something about not backing down from a challenge.” Caspar nodded rapidly. “Gotta respect that, if I do say so myself.”</p><p>“A stupid challenge, if you ask me.” Linhardt yawned. “I would rather be napping, but Caspar wanted me to come with him. Something about judging the prowess of a true brawler.” He shrugged. </p><p>“Balthus is very much strong. I am in agreement. But I still am not understanding. It is not for any real purpose?” Petra cocked her head slightly. “I am having wonder if he was having more of a reason. It seems that it simply is the way the men of both my country and yours are.”</p><p>“What do you mean, Petra?” Caspar’s face showed visible confusion. </p><p>“Well…how am I supposing I should put it…” her lips pursed in thought. “The men of both the countries, the ones that are having strength and kindness but not the intelligence. It is seeming they are engaging in often silly activities, but they will do it with humor-ness if it is for someone or something they care about. You are like that too, Caspar.”</p><p>“Oh, thank you! That’s really nice of you to say, Petra.” Caspar beamed from ear to ear. </p><p>“Cas, she just called you stupid.” Linhardt let out a gentle smirk and looked at the blue-haired man. </p><p>“Oh, I know! And it’s okay. I’d rather be nice and strong.” Caspar tilted his head slightly towards the other man. “We have you for the brains.”</p><p>Petra smiled knowingly, and pulled a book out of her bag. “I am always enjoying the bantering of the two of you. It is very cute.”</p><p>“Hey, I’m not cute!” Caspar playfully slid the book out of her hands and sat it on the bench next to him, out of her reach. “Now, take that back if you want your book!” </p><p>Linhardt let out a resigned sigh. “Let the woman read, Caspar. She’s not wrong.”</p><p>“What, you think I’m…cute?” Caspar seemed slightly taken aback, but he slid the book back to Petra anyways. </p><p>“I’m not accountable for anything that comes out of my mouth when I’m tired, you know this.” A hint of a flush dusted across the nose of the scholar as he ignored the question. “Now, are we heading out to the clock tower or not?” </p><p>- - -</p><p>A sizable gathering had formed out in the monastery grounds under the modestly sized clock tower near the cathedral, a little before midnight. Balthus was well-known above and under the monastery, and to be completely honest, from the perspective of most of the people milling about, nothing this <i>stupid</i> had happened in a really long time. Gossip traveled fast around the under-populated monastery (reaching everyone but Seteth), especially when people wanted to distract themselves from the war at hand - news of the run had only really gotten out after lunch today, yet, it felt like the entire monastery was here.</p><p>Of course, minus the two women that people usually expected to have all the news - Dorothea and Hilda, who had left out to town just <i>before</i> lunch. Usually, the diva and the axe-princess knew the ground truth for any given exaggerated rumor going around the grounds. And usually, they would <i>never</i> let themselves miss out on something this big. </p><p>Claude breathed a sigh of disappointment at this observation, as if expecting Hilda and Dorothea to have suddenly warped back onto the grounds from their night out, drunken and giggling. He was a little surprised that word hadn’t gotten to them out in town, anyway. The information sources those women harbored could rival his own damn network. </p><p>“Upset about something?” Byleth raised an eyebrow at him as they joined the edge of the group. She got up on her tiptoes and peered over the crowd, seeking out the presence of the other members of the war council. No one had decided to <i>not</i> take in whatever was going on with their colleague, the King of Grappling. She grabbed Claude’s hand suddenly, dragging him through the crowd towards where she had spotted Petra, Caspar, and Linhardt. </p><p>“Honestly, Teach? Not really. Well, a little. Kind of.” He shrugged. He was glad it was dark so she couldn’t see him blushing. She had made no movements to let go of his hand, and he wasn’t about to do anything to change that. “I mean, I knew Dorothea and Hilda were going out for the night. But I was really hoping that somehow, they’d make it back here in time. I’d really enjoy the chaos that would ensue if Hilda was here. I’d love to see her pull out that axe in high heels and rough some guys up.”</p><p>“Hold on, what’s Hilda got to do with any of this?” Byleth squinted. “Who is she roughing up? And why? Back up real quick.”</p><p>“Oh…right. Uh. The short of it is that this whole thing was an enormous ruse to get take Balthus up on a challenge he issued that no one could date Hilda without beating him in a fight. He didn’t realize that, and now that he does, it’s going to turn into a brawl for Hilda’s honor, where Balthus is fighting for Hilda’s ability to fight for her own honor.” </p><p>Byleth looked slightly more confused than when she had asked her question. “Ooooo-kay. How about you give me the long of it over some tea later, instead.” She squeezed his hand affectionately before letting it go. </p><p>“Can’t spell Teach without tea.” He smiled winningly. </p><p>Byleth turned her head to focus on the conversation the others were having next to them. Claude tuned a ear in as well, then tuned it back out when he realized it was just Linhardt and Caspar arguing again about the various philosophies about when starting a fight was appropriate. </p><p>His hand felt strangely empty without hers in it, even though it had only been a minute that they had been touching. He unconsciously reached for her again, only realizing what he had done when she reciprocated, sliding and interlocking her fingers neatly in between his. She did not break from the other conversation as she did so - and to Claude, the motion was comfortable, practiced, brand new and habit all at the same time. </p><p>“ALRIIIIIIGHT. THE KING HAS ARRIVED!” The chatter melted into murmurs as Balthus’ jovial voice carried through the crowd, which parted slightly to form an empty space around him. “Hey, hey, where’d all the noise go? C’mon guys, don’t hold back!” He held his hands up and beckoned in a <i>bring it on</i> motion, encouraging the crowd into loud applause. Claude noted Hapi standing directly behind him, rolling her eyes as she leaned over to whisper something in a giggling Constance’s ear. </p><p>“Hold on, Claude?” Byleth’s own voice carried to him in a loud whisper, her head tilted up so her voice would carry to his ear through the cheers. She had broken from the other conversation, and was looking at him with an (adorable) confused expression,  holding up their intertwined hands. A sudden smile scrunched her face up. His heart leapt slightly at the sight. 

His favorite sight. 

He liked to burn each of her smiles into his head, because, sometimes, they were the only things that could really get him through a rough day. Anyway.</p><p>“How long have we been holding hands for?” </p><p>“Oh.” He quickly disengaged, pulling his hand out of hers and shaking it in the air by his side. He could feel his cheeks warming up again. The theme of the day. “Sorry. I’m not sure.”</p><p>She reached back over, her much smaller hand grabbing at his tightly, almost possessively. “No, that’s not what I meant. Bring it back. I like it.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Find me on tumblr @ preetsposting.tumblr.com :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>